Inscape
by liferuiner
Summary: There was fire. There was blood. She's neck deep in loss.


_The night was unforgiving._

Korra winces and bites down hard on her lower lip, pain carving angry, black lines into her face. Her thigh is stinging, screaming in agony, and it feels like a thousand razor edged daggers are slicing their way through her flesh in order to get to the bone. _It hurts. _

Mako is heavy and limp and her back is throbbing, and a part of her fears that her spine might snap in half and shatter. His arms are draped loosely around her neck and she proceeds to lean forward slightly; it's all she can do to keep him upright. His left hand slips and dangles on the edge of her peripheral vision and she notices that the bare skin is exposed, absent of his fingerless glove. She stumbles. His head knocks against hers. Her knees dig into the lip of the step. It's sharp. A new cut. Gritting her teeth, Korra rights herself, tilting her chin up as she focuses her blue eyes on the Air Temple archway that looms above her. The ache in her leg pleads for her to stop, to rest, but she ignores it, subduing the overwhelming urge to howl as she presses on, limping up the stone stairs. It's not just her body she's supporting. She's carrying the weight of them both.

The blood from Mako's bleeding abdomen stains her tattered shirt, blue cotton splattered with red paint. He's not supposed to be in this state; she wants his eyes open and awake, to see the fire dancing behind his amber irises, but his eyelids insist on keeping those precious tawny orbs hidden from her. She can't help but note that he's so still and that his chest doesn't rise and fall and that the temperature of his skin feels as if the arctic air of the South Pole has made a home in his bloodstream. Drops of perspiration cuts trails across Korra's dirt smudged cheeks and her rough breaths join the melody of her pounding heartbeat. _Where's his heartbeat? _

Hot tears threaten to spill from the damaged faucet of her eyes, the water clouding her vision, and her surroundings blur together. He's fine. Mako's fine. _He's fine. Mako's fine._ Her mind is a broken record of false reassuring words and faltering beliefs. There's an earthquake inside her head.

_The factory. The explosion. Where's Bolin? The shattered glass windows. Mako's piercing cries. The flames. Asami? The smoke. The breaks in the walls. Amon. Blackness. Blackness. Blackness. Black—_

"Almost there, City Boy." Korra's whispers are gentle, but the letters crack. Silence pushes against her eardrums. His blood is warm and wet. The stars watch as she continues her strenuous climb, Mako's body like a boulder.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. The sky shakes.

She finds Tenzin at the top of the stairs, stroking the fur of a very tired Naga who's whining quietly into her white paws, tail thumping sadly behind her. The beast and the man share the same solemn expression. Korra's labored footsteps drag against the ground and Naga's ears twitch when she hears the gravel shift. Her head snaps up and she barks happily at Korra's approach, causing Tenzin to shoot a curious glance in her direction. Relief softens the deep creases wedged into his brow when he sees her, his shoulders rattling as a long withheld sigh falls from his lips. He spots her injured leg and moves to help her, reaching out to take Mako from her. She shakes her head.

Tenzin looks at her and Korra wonders if he can see how fragile she is in this moment. Touch her and she'd break. She's a vase that sits at the corner of a table and she wishes to protect her flower for a little while longer. But all too soon, the vase plummets to the floor.

Korra drops to her knees, and her knuckles turn a ghostly white. She can no longer contain the tide, and the floodgates burst open, allowing her to drown in the raging current. Clumsily, she removes Mako from her back and then cradles him in her arms, his long legs spread out against the gray stone ground. The distraught noises that tumble from her lips are somewhere between a wail and a growl, and her voice trembles with grief and rage. Her foundations are tearing at the seams. She shakes him, hits him, and yells his name until it feels as if her lungs are at risk of imploding, crumpling up into a shriveled heap. His blood blooms across her hands.

_Flash._

"_Oh, you're still here?"_

"_Oh, you're still a jerk?"_

_Flash._

"_Look, I really like you and I think we were made for each other."_

_Flash._

"_As much as you drive me crazy, I also think you're pretty amazing."_

_Flash._

Her hot tears decorate his face and his scarf. Her throat is tight and her stomach clenches as her head pounds. It's like the world is falling and she can't sense the earth beneath her anymore. They're floating in empty space, her a bawling, grime covered mess and him forever unmoving and unresponsive. "Mako," she whimpers, his name thick with her tears, "are you going to wake up?" The question is so childish and so, she is a child. She's helpless and vulnerable, her insides are coming apart. She knows he won't answer. He _can't_ answer.

Korra buries her face in his hair and she screams for him over and over, wishing that she wasn't breathing because he isn't breathing. _It hurts. _He smells like smoke mixed with the sour tang of blood.

Tenzin had stands to the side, shrouded in a blanket of her distressed shrieks. He doesn't see the Avatar. All he can see is a little girl who has lost the only toy she has ever wanted. The airbender places a gentle hand on Korra's shoulder. "Korra," he says delicately, eyes sad. She clutches Mako to her chest and it looks as if she's willing their bodies to merge into one entity.

Then Naga's next to her, licking at her arm.

Korra feels Tenzin's fingers tense on her shoulder and she can hear the sound of footsteps fall fast and heavy on the stone. She wants to turn around, but she doesn't because the desire to continue looking at his face is too powerful. A figure drops beside her and, immediately, she knows who it is. The tears descend faster. Bolin's arm is wrapped in gauze and his right eye is swollen shut, a multitude of scratches garnishing his face. His bright green eyes are absent of tears, and instead of sorrow pulling at his features, his expression is blank as he reaches out a shaky hand to touch the side of his older brother's face. _He must feel how cold he is. Frigid. _

Where did you go, Mako? Why did you go, Mako? It's too soon.

_Korra yanks at her leg, pulling it free from the fallen debris. The fire erupts around her, consuming everything as if grows. The world has turned into a collage of yellow and red and she releases a barrage of coughs, yelping when a searing pain rips through her thigh. A jagged glass shard sticks out of her olive skin and she clasps her hands around it, tugging it free. She sucks in a sharp intake of breath as the shard clatters to the floor._

_A loud boom smashes the atmosphere. Had the embers consumed another satomobile? Korra gets awkwardly to her feet, hopping and staggering on her bum leg. A series of coughs disturbs her throat._

The only sound is the sputtering showerhead as it spits cold water at her body. Korra's hair is free of its restraints, cascading down her back like silk curtains. She wills her body to become numb. She doesn't want to feel her own heartbeat. The clutches at the space above her breasts, digging her dirt crusted nails into the skin. It shouldn't be beating.

The sin colored gore from her leg turns the water pink as it swirls down the drain.

_Mako is slumped against a pillar, hand pressed against his stomach. Korra wobbles over to him. "Mako!" she calls. He lifts his head at the sound of her voice. A gasp dissolves on her tongue. His mouth is red with blood._

"_Amon—he just disappeared," he chokes out. His light eyes flicker to her leg. "Are you okay?"_

_Another boom._

_Korra offers him a crooked smile. "You know, you should worry about yourself more."_

Korra twists the shower mechanism. The water flow stops.Once again, she's enclosed by the buzzing of the quiet that surrounds her. For a moment, Korra just stands in the base of the tub, staring at the bare wall without really seeing it. What is she supposed to feel? The emotions that are surfacing are too many and too much and she can't keep up with them. Lava is spilling over a cracked mug.

The temple walls are thin, and so eventually she can hear the sounds of a younger brother who is now the only brother. He's just on the other side of the very wall she stares at and his sobs are thunderous and Korra can feel the vibrations as he repeatedly slams his fists against every surface he can touch. She tilts her head to the sink, neck deep in her friend's weeping. A pair of airbender trousers and a plain T-shirt sits next to the faucet, right beside her blood stained attires. It's impossible to separate his blood from hers on her ruined shirt.

Korra grabs a towel from the rack, wrapping her body in it, her hair dripping onto the floor. Isn't it supposed to feel warm? Ungracefully, she hobbles out of the bathtub.

There's a soft knock on the bathroom door before the door creaks open, Pema poking her head inside. She gives Korra a small smile, but Korra can't find it in herself to return one of her own. The corners of her mouth continue to be weighed down by chains and anchors.

Pema holds up a first aid kit. "I'm here to patch you up."

Korra nods, pulling the towel tighter around her. She settles at the edge of the tub, holding out her injured leg for Pema to examine. Pema pulls over an empty bucket from beneath the sink, using it as a makeshift chair, her pregnant stomach like a great round ball. Korra's eyes are downcast as Tenzin's wife works on her wound, cleaning it out with medicines attached to cotton swabs. She begins bandaging Korra's leg, wrapping the gauze around and around her thigh.

"Korra," Pema says, softly, "I'm so sorry."

That's all anyone can really say, isn't it? They cannot promise to bring him back. They cannot give him back to her, cannot give him back to his baby brother whose heart is butchered.

She doesn't look at Pema when she says, "So am I." She has never heard her voice sound so miniscule.

When Pema is finished, saying a somber goodnight before exiting, Korra tugs on the clothes that were left for her, the pants loose and the shirt too big. Bolin's voice is hoarse by the time she makes it too her room. She knows that she should go to him, comfort her best friend, but she also knows that he needs this time to himself. This is his moment of suffering, their night of anguish. The miasma is burning her eyes and the air is suffocating.

She passes the children's rooms as she makes her way to her own, and she hopes and prays that their dreams are joyous and wonderful and bright, everything that hers never were. She pushes open the door, stepping inside the bedroom. A quicksand of guilt and longing. She just wants him _back. _

She freezes, blue eyes slowly widening. He's leaning against the wall, amber eyes admiring the moon through the glass of the window. His gloved hands fiddle with his scarf as jagged shadows darken one side of his pale face. He must hear her voice catch or sense the quickening of her pulse, because he drops his gaze from the night sky, resting those fiery eyes on her stunned face.

His mouth turns up in a half-smile. "Hey, Korra." Gentle. Deep. Masculine.

She takes one step forward. The door swings closed. _Mako. _"Mako…"

And then she's running to him, throwing her arms around his neck, tears of joy trickling from her eyes. He's here. He's back. She can feel his heartbeat against hers. He snakes his arms around her waist, squeezing her. The stand like that for a whole minute before, unwillingly, she pulls away from him and meets his gaze. "Don't get me wrong," she says, smiling, "I'm happy you're—you're _back, _but how—?"

He shakes his head, his hands tender on her arms. "I'm not," he comments. He lets out a humorless laugh. "My body's still down the hall."

Korra's stomach drops along with her brief smile. She balls her hands around the fabric of his coat; she can feel the warm beneath her palm. But, he _is _here.

"Then I'm dreaming." Her voice reverts back to the tone of a toddler. "Or hallucinating."

Mako's shoulde's lift in a slight shrug. "Maybe," he says.

Suddenly, she's angry. She's furious with herself for being so weak, furious at him for being here and for leaving. She bangs her fists against his chest, a string of curse words running off her tongue. The tears are hot. He just stares down at her, eyes sorrowful as he takes the blows, staggering into the wall. She's punching and pushing.

"_You're such an idiot, Mako!" _she yells. "_Bolin needs you! You left him, you abandoned him! All because of your stupid selflessness!" _She needs him. He left her, he abandoned her. All because of his stupid selflessness.

Korra falls into him as yet another dam breaks open. They're on the ground now, his back against the wall, hugging her as moonlight splashes over their skin. He lets her yell at him until she grows too tired and they sit in silence, her hiccups cutting through the space between them every now and then.

"I'm sorry, Korra," he amends after what seems like forever. "I'm sorry."

She can hear the lacerations in his voice, pain and grief and remorse. He doesn't want to be dead either, just as much as she doesn't want it. She can't tell him that it isn't his fault; she doesn't know where to put the blame. She simply lets his apologize fall on her like a sheet. She presses her cheek against his chest and listens to his breathing, a part of her wondering how he's doing it as yet another part of her doesn't care because the sound is like magic.

"You should get to bed," he tells her.

She sighs, giving in to the moment. "Only if you stay for a bit longer, Team Captain."

She gets a light chuckle out of him. "Of course."

He stands, helping her to her feet. They climb into bed together, lying on their sides so that they're able to look at each other's eyes. A sea blue. A sea of ocher. Mako's fingers weave through her loose hair.

"I hate you, right now," she informs him simply, pressing her face into his palm.

Mako nods. "I know."

She presses her forehead against his. He smells like his and Bolin's attic home, like cooking oil and old furniture. She opens her mouth, voice a whisper. "But I love you, too."

Mako smiles, placing a small kiss on her nose. "I know."

Korra doesn't remove her gaze from his eyes. She just wants to keep looking at him until her vision burns out. This isn't really, she knows that, but she wishes to relish in this precious moment, because she won't get another one. Not with him. The broken hearted beast that dwells at the bottom of her stomach is quiet and content, if only for a little while.

The vase has shattered, but its flowers still lies with it.

Her eyelids eventually flutter closed, his soft voice grazing over her ear.

"I love you, Korra."

She sleeps, free of dreams or nightmare, entangled in Mako's embrace.

When Korra is awakened by the harsh rays of the morning sun, Mako's scarf is wrapped snuggly around her neck. She smiles into the fabric.

The sky is very blue.

You're still an idiot.

**Well, there you have it! Hopefully it isn't as terrible as I think it is…**

**Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!**

**-ThisStatelessMind**


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